Drowning
by What-The-Em
Summary: {Sterek} You know when you're drowning you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. Stiles drowns saving Derek from the Kanima (Jackson)
1. Chapter 1

Stiles POV  
*********

I glanced at Derek, who was being held back by Matt, paralyzed by the Kanima.

' I'm sorry.' I mouth to him, but he tilts his head down, ashamed.

Jackson claws my shirt, gripping me by my hair and pushing me slowly into the water. I hear whines coming from Scott and Derek, but they are both too paralyzed to stop him.

'Its alright.' I think, remembering how Deatons said that you can communicate that way with Pack. If I ever was Pack.

It's starting to burn. I try to reach my hand up to cover my nose from the water, but remember I'm 'immobile' at the moment, also. I'm staring at the sky now. I see red and blue flashing lights, the water shake as Matts head becomes visible to me, held under by a strong hand. Bubbles burst from his mouth, head jerking from side to side, but when he sees me, eyes drifting shut, he smiles. A full-blown smile that let's in water through his airways.

Soon, he falls still, and I'm alone. My head feels about ready to burst, and I hear a growl.

Sourwolf.

I smirk unknowingly, letting in a drop of water, sending me into a coughing fit.

'I can't do this anymore.' I think again, closing my eyes.

That's when I opened my mouth.

Derek's POV  
************

'I'm sorry.' He mouths to me, and I drop my head, hiding my eyes.

My wolf growls, clawing inside of me when Jackson shoves Stiles into the river.

"Its alright."He thinks, and all I do is growl louder.

I feel Matt getting torn off of me by Gerard, and I sigh in relief as I hit the ground. Gerard holds Matts head under water, as I tilt my head, grabbing his knife off the ground...with my teeth.

I slice my upper arm, trying to get my healing to force the venom out of my system. The Sheriff runs out of his car towards me.

"Where the hell is my son, Hale?" He screams, and my wolf moans 'mate' as I point to the river.

I stand up slowly, before collapsing again.

"I can't do this anymore." Says Stiles, and I throw myself off the ground, running into the water. I see his red hoodie floating from the bottom of the river, and I dive.

When I catch sight of his body, slowly drifting to the bottom, I grip his shirt with both hands, pulling him close, and push off the bottom with all my strength.

"Stiles!" Scott yells, running to my side as I pull him to the bank.

He's so cold. I lay him on his back, clasping my hands together, and start pushing.

1 2 3 4

Tilting his mouth open, I blow air into his lungs.

1 2 3 4

Please.

1 2 3 -

I hear the faintest heart beat. I smile, blinking tears out of my eyes.

Blowing air into his mouth one more time, I feel him move against me, leaning to the side, retching water out of his airways.

He looks at me, staring into my eyes, then smirks.

"We're you kissing me, Sourwolf?" He asks, and I couldn't help but laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

Sheriff Stilinskis POV  
*******************

Where the hell is my son, Hale?!" I scream in Derek's face, gripping one of his shoulders. Her raises his hand slowly, like he was poisoned or really exhausted.

I turn to where he points. The River.

Derek tries to get up, but his legs shake, and he collapses, but then his face twists in agony, someone is talking to him, and he's not happy about it. His eyes widen in shock, and he throws himself off the ground, going straight to the river, and diving in.

Stiles POV  
**********

I feel a pressure on my lips, and a pushing against my chest, the water in my lungs getting forced up my throat, burning.

I'm alive! I'm alive...

I lean to the side, choking up seaweed and little bits of rock, when I open my eyes groggily.

I see Derek looking down on me, dripping wet, with red eyes. He growls softly. I raise my fingertips to my lips, and force a smirk.

"We're you kissing me, Sourwolf?" I ask, my eyes fluttering closed.

He picks me up bridal style, laying my head gently on his warm shoulder. I hadn't realized how cold I was until I felt him. Wrapping my arms around his, I shiver violently, when he places his hand behind my head and neck.

He turns to me with a wicked grin on his face, but also with comfort, "Hold on tight."

We ran through the woods, and he stopped at one of the trees and he sat me down, leaning against the wood. He kneels down next to me, pressing his lips softy to mine, tilting his head to the side. I slide my hand up his 'V' neck sliding off his leather jacket and moaning into his mouth as he drags his tongue across my bottom lip sliding it into my mouth, he pulls away slowly.

" ! STILES!" He screams, and my eyes shoot open, I jump back, to reveal Derek and Deatons worried faces.

I just daydreamed about Derek Hale. Oh my god.

"Sorry." I say nervously, dragging my hands over my face.

"Are you okay, Stiles?" Deatons asks, like I didn't just get drowned by Jackson.

I sigh, looking up into his eyes, tears about to fall. I bite my lip, then begin.

"You know when you're drowning you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. Then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore, it's… it's actually kind of peaceful."

I'm full blown crying now, but that's when he speaks.

"Can you feel sorry for the nine year old Matt who drowned?"

"Just because a bunch of dumb asses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one. And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. Not just of her though, I mean he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing, y'know like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what set him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."

"And what about you, Stiles? Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night?"

"Why would you ask me that? Oh. Uh, uh, no I never actually play but hey, since one of my teammates is dead, and another ones missing, who knows, right?"

"You mean Issac. Now really, how are you?"

"I'm fine. Aside from the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terribleness about to happen."

"It's called hyper vigilance. The persistent feeling of being under threat."

I have been diagnosed before. I don't want to be analyzed or fixed. Don't want to be told that what I'm feeling is a disorder. It's why I didn't answer any of the questions directly originally, didn't volunteer any information. Because I've been through this before. I've been diagnosed. And I'm tired of feeling like somethings wrong with me.

"Maybe it's not just a feeling though, right, it's… it's like it's a panic attack. Y'know, like I can't even breathe."

I stop myself from saying anything that's the truth. "It's like I'm being attacked by the supernatural, like I've dragged the only remaining parent I have into it, like I almost watched him die because a crazy kid went off the handle and happened to find a freaky lizard who is also my classmate who tried to kill me and killed lots of other people and almost killed my father." So instead, I change it to the only thing I know I can articulate that's possibly similar: panic attacks. Because they make me feel helpless, like Jackson did, like Matt did. Helpless to take care of myself, or anything around me.

"Like you're drowning."

"Yeah."

"So, if you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment… what if you chose to not open your mouth? To not let the water hit?"

"Y-You do anyway, it's a reflex."

"But… if you hold off, until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right?"

"Not much time."

"But more time to fight your way to the surface"

"I guess."

"More time to be rescued."

"More time to be in agonizing pain. Did you forget about the part where you feel like your head's exploding?"

Because I never get rescued. That's the difference between Matt and I. I've felt like I've been drowning since mom died, since my father started drinking himself to an early grave, since Scott turned into a werewolf and left me, since everyone around me became stronger and more well adapted for life, since my dad told me he didn't trust me. Since my dad called Scott's name instead of mine when he heard a gun shot go off. Since I watched my dad get attacked, and I was helpless. Like I always am.

"If it's about surviving, isn't a little agony worth it?"

"I mean, what if it just gets worse? What if it's agony now and… and it's just hell later on."

"Then think about something Winston Churchill once said: If you're going through hell, keep going."

I think the last quote really encompasses my way of coping, way of living. I am under this barrage of every thing going wrong, of drowning under every crisis my life throws at me. But I'm in the constant state of voluntary apnea. I never breathe in, never let it take me under all the way. I'm going through hell, I can't breathe, I want nothing more than to open my mouth and let the pain go away. To have peace. But I live with feeling like my head's exploding, because other people need me to survive. Dad, Scott, even Derek. I play a role, and that role is the only thing that keeps me going, even if I don't realize how big it is. It's the only thing that keeps me from breathing, from letting the water in. I don't believe in a brighter future for myself; I don't see the drowning feeling going away any time soon, unless I let the water in, give up. But I do believe in the fact that if I do give in, do concede, it might hurt the ones around me more than I'm hurting.

So I am willing to deal with agony now, and hell later on, because I care about those I love more than I care about myself. I'll live in hell if it means everyone I care about gets to live, period.

No ones POV  
****************

Stiles sits there, not knowing he said all that aloud. No one would tell him, either. Because they know that's what he believes, and they wouldn't deny him that. They couldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Derek's POV

I can't believe he thinks so lowly about himself. I mean, sure I shove him into a wall or two and sometimes I threaten to rip his throat out.. with my teeth.

Once we got back to his house, he was back to his normal self.

"Pizza?" He asks carrying a slice of pizza on a paper plate, setting it next to me on the bed.

I feel a burst of air coming from the open window, and step in front of Stiles, when Peter appears into his room.

"What do you want, _uncle_?" I sneer, stepping back, gripping Stiles hand behind my back. He's trembling.

He leans over and raises his eyebrows at my mate, moaning in his head. Oh hell no.

I growl and grip his jacket and pick him up. "Don't. Do. That."

"What, _nephew.._? Only admiring the teen, I may take him and have my way with him before you do."

Stiles steps forward speaking, "Are you threatening me? You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna brake off an extra large branch of mountain ash, wrap it in wolfsbane, roll it in mistletoe, and shove it up your freakin'- "

"Uh uh uhh" Peter smirks, grabbing his neck and throwing him across the room. My eyes turn red, and I sprint to claw him, when he jumps out the window.

I turn to Stiles when he leaves, finding him dabbing a cut on his forehead. I whimper when he pushes me out of the way to get a tissue.

"Calm down Sourwolf, I'll hug you in a minute." He jokes. He jumps down stairs, and I hear him and his Dad talking.

_no ones POV

"You're not gay!" Sheriff Stilinski yells, scaring Stiles enough to force him back into the counter.

He mock scoffs, "I could be!" He yells, "I think I love him." He mumbles quietly.

"What?" Sheriff chokes out, gripping his sons shoulders softly. "You weren't kidding?"

"Uhh- one little detail. It may be Drk- hill" he slurs, attempting to sneak away.

"I'm sorry, what did you say son?"

"It may be Derek Hale?" He says, flinching, ready for a scream that never came.

"...alright." He says casually, biting into an apple with a grin on his face. "Be safe up there."

Stiles eyebrows shoot up, giving his father a questioning look. "How did you- and we- I didn't even." He blurts out, pointing at the stairs.

"Uugh."

When he returned upstairs he finds Derek no where to be found, and a symbol on his window.

Stiles makes a strangled cry as he sees blood on his window sill. Derek.

He feels arms wrap around his waist and his heartbeat flutters, when a hand covers his mouth.

'Not Derek. Abort. Abort!' He struggles against the arms when He feels something stick into his side.

"Wolfsbane." They whisper in Stiles ear. "You're human, but it still stings like a bitch."

He turns to see Peter before He blacks out.

'Really?'

Stiles POV  
*************

I wake up bound by chains. I'm restrained on a gurney, and by the feel of it...cold...underground.

I hear a groan come from the other side of the room, and look up painfully to see Derek, in the same situation, but he's in a chair.

"Derek." I croak, and he looks up.

"Stiles, are you hurt?" He asks, sounding generally concerned.

Point for Stilinski. I think to myself, remembering he can hear me, blushing deeply.

"Uh, no I'm okay. Head hurts a little. And I think my chains have wolfsbane on them, it burns." I whimper pathetically.

"Well well well, look who's up." Peter comes in with a crash, dropping glass shards on the floor in front of the door. I look down, no shoes. Great.

I'm gonna have someone unchain you, okay Stiles?" He murmurs softly. Ew.

I nod quickly, when a slap comes across my face. "Pathetic." He sneers.

Of course. Doucherocket.

I hear Derek chuckle softly, but I'm pulled out of my thought by another hit to my cheek. Ouch?

"I can't wait until Derek's asleep" he whispers seductively, though loud enough for Der to hear perfectly.

"I can't take waiting around like this, ya know. It's nerve wracking. My nerves are wracked, they're severely wracked. Wracked."

"I could beat you unconscious and wake you when it's over." He suggested, and my stomach churned. Knowing him, he would actually do it.

Derek growls, and Peters eyes flashed blue before he stalked over to him.

"Why are you interrupting me? I thought you would want your _mate_ to live."

Haha...wait what?

"What does he mean mate, Sour wolf?" I ask sweetly, even though I'm scared as hell.

'Does he like me back?...Love me back?'

'Yes Stiles. I do, now shut up.'

I have a shit-eating grin on my face. You know I never really understood that reference...why would you be happy to eat poop?

'Stiles.' Derek thinks in my direction.

"Sorry, Sorry." I mumble aloud, shoot. Peter turns and glares at me, the smirks when he realizes what's going on.

"Looks like Derek won't be falling asleep after all. I mean who would,  
Intending to you moan my name, beg me to stop, when you know I won't."

"Peter. I think I'm really starting to understand you."

"Oh really!"

"Yeah, yeah. Look I know, unrequited love is a bitch."

Peter growls, and picks a syringe off the table, and inserts it into Derek's shoulder. His face contorts in pain, and I start whimpering. I feel every bit of it, and he tries to fight it off.

"Stiles." He breaths out, before falling limp in the chair.

"What did you do to him?" I whisper angrily.

I turn to face the omega, seeing my eyes flash red in the reflection off of his eyes.

"I asked you a question...WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MATE?" I screamed, tugging at the chains that bound me to the makeshift bed.

He caresses my face, shushing me gently. I tear out of his grip, shaking the gurney.

"I'm going to have fun with you." He moans out, unzipping his jeans, revealing his large member. No underwear? Classy.

He starts pulling on my sweatpants, showing my embarrassing batman boxers...awkward.

He starts climbing on top of me, his member being shoved in my mouth as he massages mine with his tongue, dragging off my boxers. This is my chance.

I hear Derek reaching consciousness and softly moving the chains.

"Derek." I mumble around Peter, causing him to moan and suck harder, and Derek to open his eyes slightly. They wander to Peter on top of me, and all hell breaks loose.

Scott, Isaac, Cora and The one and only Papa Stilinski burst through the door. My dad starts unchaining me, considering he's the only person down here that can touch it without getting burned.

Derek breaks free, tearing Peter from me, ripping his throat out...with his teeth.

Cora and Isaac are taking care of the guards that collected around the door

...and I'm pulling up my pants.

Derek brings me into an embrace, nibbling my neck softly, claiming me. He leans his head back inches, staring into my eyes. Our eyes simultaneously flash red, and he gasps.

"That's never happened before." He says breathlessly. I run my hand through his hair, saying cheekily, "Neither has this." Before I pull his lips to mine, moaning at the contact as he drags his arm to the middle of my back, pulling me impossible closer.

I softly nudge my groin into his, releasing a loud groan from his lips, muffled by mine.

"I could get used to it though." He mutters, releasing my lips, wrapping an arm protectively around my waist. We look at the rest of the group to see Isaac and Scott making out on the gurney, My father staring at me with wide eyes and Cora sitting on the steps in front of the door.

"Let's get out of her, shall we?" Derek says, leading out to find his Camaro, and putting me down in the back seat, his getting in next to me. He tosses the keys to Cora who gets in the front.

"You better not scratch my baby." He says jokingly, and leans don't to my ear. "Where we're we?"


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles should be proud. It was almost a week before he was taken again!

"Score." He mumbled unemotionally as another punch was thrown.

EARLIER THIS EVENING...

Stiles POV  
************

"Scott." I whined, pulling on his lacrosse jersey, "Why can't I go? It's not like I play anyway!"

Scott sighed, turning back towards me. "Fine." He says in defeat. "But you are NOT going in, okay? You tell coach that you're not feeling well."

I nod furiously, gathering my gear and tossing it in my jeep. I'm _totally _playing.

At the Game-

"Stilinski!" Coach yelled. " On the Field!"

I was stunned. Looking around and pointing at my chest. "Me?" I asked.

"Get you ass on the field Stilinski!"

I threw on my mask and looked at Scott who growled. I winked at him. Game time.

_Well._ I think as I get a ball in the face.

"Pick it up!" My dad yells from the stands. What?...oh!

I scoop up the ball, swerving around the players and toss.

Cheering...YES!

A player from the other team looked at me, his eyes glowing red.

Shit shit shitt.

I catch the ball, and am about to score when I hear Derek in my head.

'Stiles look out!' I turn to see the player charging at me, and I shoot, scoring, before getting tackled.

"What the hell was that for?" I scream, getting up, seeing Derek, when the stadium goes dark.

"Stiles! Where's my son!" Dad yells, and I'm about to answer when a bat cracks against my skull.

Here we go again.

Derek's POV

Stiles is actually really good when he tries. I think proudly.

I growl seeing a kid charging at him from behind.

'Stiles look out!' I think, about to run on field when he's tackled. The boys eyes turn red, and Stiles gets up.

"What the hell was that for?" He yells, when the lights go out.

I hear the Sheriff screaming for his son. The lights flash and Stiles is the only one in the middle of the field, bloodied and battered,

I try to run to him, but when they flash again, he gone.

Present time. Stiles POV  
*******************************

"What do you want from me? I won't tell you nuthin'" I slur, coughing up blood.

Not good.

"I want to know all about your pack. But most importantly...I want you to scream."

We've been at this for hours!

So I'll stop here. So basically, there was this whole alpha pack that oblivious Derek did not know about and his werewolf ass is gonna get it if I get out of this.

_if._

He drags his claws down my chest, leaving red severed marks in his wake.

"You know, sometimes I really begin to question this "friendship."

He starts chuckling, and I push my back against the chair as far as I could, tilting my chair backwards, falling over.

_Great._

My hands slip out of the ropes, and I dash towards the light.

I hear a roar, and feel a claw rip at my ankle as I start climbing the raggedy ladder leading to sunlight.

I kick the boy hard in the face, him releasing my leg, and continue climbing.

I collapse on the ground, but pull myself up, limping into the forest as I hear another growl.

It's pitch black, and I get into the middle of the woods (maybe?) and lean exasperated against a tree.

I try hard not to, but soon fall into an uncomfortable slumber.


End file.
